


What pirate doesn't drink rum?

by ObsidianButterfly



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Het, Oral, Quartermaster, Reader fic - Freeform, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4135758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianButterfly/pseuds/ObsidianButterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adéwalé doesn't seem like the usual kind of pirate and this, unfortunately, makes it a little harder to engage in some intimate activities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What pirate doesn't drink rum?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for a reader fic with everyones favourite quartermaster

 

You notice him sitting all alone in the tavern.  Lots of people happily sit by themselves with a mug of ale and not a word spoken, it’s not entirely unusual.

It is rare, however, to see a pirate alone. And a pirate the stranger clearly is, judging by his clothing, weaponry, and the gentle lingering smell of the ocean.

Most pirates drink and cavort with the rest of their crew, and there are no shortages of hangers on; women eager to provide their pleasurable services for a few coins. He is not making merry like the rest of the men here, which is what initially drew your attention. There is a very serious air around the stranger, a presence of imposing authority that no one seems keen to step forward and interrupt his silent vigil, or cajole him into taking part drinking and singing.

Noticeable due to his sheer size, the pirates bulk takes up an impressive amount of space on the small decking area set away from the bar. A smooth, shaved- bald head gleams slightly in the fire light, skin a rich dark brown and deep eyes glint watchfully. It is not just his body that is taking up space; the brooding, threatening, attitude is taking up so much more.

Some men and women come alone but do not usually remain that way for long. They may be lonely or looking for an enjoyable evening, and are soon joining in with the rowdy, drunken crowds. It's is very easy to meet people here, to love and laugh and dance, but the silent stranger does not seem interested in the majority of the revellers.

As you surreptitiously watch him, drinking in the defined contours of his body and impressive figure, you notice that he does glance around seriously at his surroundings every so often, as if on guard.

You approach the pirate slowly, interested, taking in his those broad shoulders and impossibly bulky arms that strain a thin shirt every time he moves. A glint of gold from his earring catches your eye as it reflects the fire light from the braziers.

Dark eyes register your appearance quickly as you near the small table where he is station. The strangers gaze is penetrating, carefully appraising every inch of you. It is probably the most unsexual look that a man has ever given you, and you have a feeling that you have just been weighed and judged; assessed as to whether you were worth his time or not.

Most of his face him is hidden in shadow, you suspect that the pirate purposely sat in an area as far from the lights as possible, but still in a prime position to monitor everything going on. Back positioned to the railings, there is a drop of several feet behind him to the street below, and easy access to both sides around the table should he need it.

Your estimation of the man has increased somewhat.  The stranger knows what he is doing and how to assess threat. You idly wonder if he has a good cause to be wary and whether you should rethink your idea of making a move to engage him.

'I'm not interested.'

His voice is intense and impossibly deep. It reverberates through the air and assaults your ears, sending a small shiver down your back.

You almost startle, you had not expected him to speak until you initiated conversation and just about manage to find your own voice.

'I'm sorry?' You laugh off his irritated tone, but he continues staring at your with a neutral expression.

'I have no interest in your services, girl.'

The pirate nods across the room and you follow his gaze. A tall blonde man is currently dancing on a table, a bottle of rum in each hand and a girl under each arm. The ladies appear to be animatedly caressing his chest and... _much_ lower down. You shouldn’t really be surprised, a few more drinks and no doubt some overly amorous couple with be practically having intercourse on top of one of the tables. Such sights were common in reckless pirate ports.

‘Kenway is the man to see.' The dark stranger mutters as you both stare at the scene in front of you. The blonde pirate was putting on quite a show and you watch, amused, for a time, before glancing back with wide incredulous eye. Snorting, you try to make light of the fact that the pirate thought that you were a whore.

'You think I'm here to sell myself?'

He leans forwards, heavy forearms resting on the table. His eyes narrow, raking over your appearance again and studying your face as if he reads something more there.

'My apologies.'  He murmurs, but doesn’t seem particularly sincere about it.

You smirk as you slide into the chair opposite not waiting to be asked, palms caressing the coarse wooden table top as you contemplate your next move. He was a strange character indeed this one. His looks appealed to you certainly, but a pirate that seemed more stoic and taciturn than others you had encountered before, was unusual and perhaps going to be difficult to predict.

'Can I…get you a drink?' You offer him. This was not quite going the way you had planned in your head but you will plough along anyway. You were curious to see if those arms felt as strong as they looked wrapped around your body or those full lips could set fire to your skin.

Tilting his mug forward, the pirate fixes you with an unimpressed stare. Even in the dim light you can see that the liquid is clear and there is no distinct smell of alcohol radiating from the cup. You raise your eyebrows, surprised.

'What kind of pirate drinks water?'  You tease him.

An unexpected deep, reverberating, chuckle practically caresses your body and it pulls lowly in your stomach. He had a very good voice you will give him that.

'This kind.' The pirate grins, mouth wide, lips full. It’s the first smile you have seen from him since he came to the tavern, it softens his face as his eyes crinkle in humour.

'So, you’re not one to partake in the revelry then?' You comment, sipping from your own mug.

He nods to the blonde pirate who currently has one of the servicing, ah, ladies, half undressed, hand snaked into the loosened bodice of her clothing and palming a breast roughly.

You watch them for a few moments, partially interested. You have no desire for the blond man; too drunk, too reckless, not your type, but the actions of Kenway and the whores are sparking a stimulating feeling low in your groin, a little twinge of need that made you approach the man in front of you. Cavorting in public with all eyes watching is not what you would want, but a private dalliance with a good looking man might just be fun.

You glance back at the strange pirate sitting opposite, he seems half amused, half disgusted by the display. He thought you were like the women with Kenway and wanted nothing to do with you, you wonder if he would be interested now that he knows you won’t be charging for any entertainment this evening.

The blond pirate drunkenly topless sideways off of the table he was dancing on, and disappears into a crowd of bodies. The man opposite you is on his feet suddenly with surprising speed, body singing with tension and hands poised at his weapons. He visibly relaxes as Kenway rolls to his feet with a loud laugh, blue eyes twinkling and hair in disarray. Grabbing a fresh bottle of rum and the nearest woman, he is soon jeering and swaying and singing once again.

Sitting back in his seat, the dark pirate looks over at you eyeing his outburst with curiosity.

'I'm making sure that he doesn't get into trouble.' He offers hesitantly.

‘You his body guard or something?’

Smirking at your playful teasing, a pink tongue flicks over his lips that you thoroughly enjoyed watching. He seems torn between answering and ignoring you.

'Something like that.'

This could be a very long evening, you think, if his conversation is going to be so minimal.

The pirate considers, head cocked to one side watching you with those intense, almost black eyes. A large palm suddenly stretches across the table to shake yours.

'The names Adéwalé, quartermaster of the Jackdaw.'

Adéwalé’s grip is firm, not overpowering, and he hasn't tried to prove his masculinity by squeezing your hand. It is warm and dry under your touch but there is a thinly veiled tension in those defined muscles, the promise of incredible strength and power. His touch leaves a pleasurable lingering caress against your skin as you make introductions.

'I take it blondie over there is captain?' You enquire.

Adéwalé inclines his head with a wry grin. 'You are perhaps not seeing Master Kenway at his best'

Grunting in amusement, you have a funny feeling that you _are_ indeed seeing Master Kenway at his best. But at least Adéwalé seems a little more relaxed, or not eyeing you with such suspicion as he did when you first approached. He still has an unfortunate cautious air about him.

'I think Kenway definitely needs your help then Mr Adéwalé.'

The pirate slouches down in his chair slightly, watching you intently and you smirk at him, hoping that he is no longer feeling threatened.

 

 

 

 

Sharing jokes with you about the rest of his crew and their travels across the Caribbean, you find that the quartermaster is a very interesting man. He skirts away from some of the more personal questions regarding his own life and by the tense look in those dark eyes you assume that it was not a happy or easy one.

As you get to know Adéwalé a little better, another large and angry looking pirate inches toe to toe with Kenway across the tavern and it appears as if there could possibly be a fight. However the second man quickly backs down after a few moments, skulking away down the sandy Nassau streets before you or Adéwalé could intervene. Obviously there is more to the blond pirate than meets the eye. Perhaps that is why such a serious and impressive figure as Adéwalé stays as his crew? There is affection there, you can tell the way he looks at the man and has taken on the responsibility of being his silent shadow.

Chatting with the pirate is much more fun now that he has relaxed a little. Initially, you thought that you had made a grave mistake in approaching him, but after a while you find that he has a dry sense of humour and an easy laugh. He is also very pretty on the eye, which is never a bad thing, tall, strong features, smooth skin that looks incredibly soft and begging to be caresses, not to mention an impressively muscled body. Adéwalé is very unlike most of the pirates here. Really, what kind of pirate did not drink rum? But you suppose that he wasn’t currently drunk and slobbering over anyone, or causing fights for that matter, which was a pretty big bonus around this island.

He seems reluctant to talk much about himself, his background seems a sore topic and he doesn’t provide more than minimal, mostly one word answers, to any of your probing. He lets you chat to him though, not minding you oversharing information about yourself to fill his silences.

 

 

 

 

The evening has gotten late and a large number of revellers have departed for either their home or whoever had the misfortune to be their paramour for the night.

'Um, you supposed to follow him?' You nod in Kenway’s direction and Adéwalé follows your gaze.

The captain is leaving the tavern, stumbling down the street with a woman under each arm and rum staining the front of his blue and white tunic.

Adéwalé scowls and shakes his head.

'Idiot boy. I'm not going to stand outside his door and listen to that. If anything happens to him then it’s his own fault.'

You shrug playfully. ‘Worst that is likely to happen is Kenway wakes up with a very sore head and finds they robbed all his money.'

‘It would serve him right.' Adéwalé teases.

The pirate stands to leave and you watch him from under your eyelashes, slightly disappointed. You had been having fun, he was interesting, but his flirting had been minimal and response to your seduction was either brief or ignored. You resign yourself to a night without some steamy, intense sex and bed alone.

Tucking in his chair, Adéwalé surprisingly motions before him. 'Walk with me.'

Well this was unexpected. Perhaps the night was not a total loss after all.

Grinning you get to your feet and follow broad shoulders out the tavern and down steps to the soft dirt track that leads to the beach. The street is dark; you can hear the faint noise from the bar behind you, the clank of weapons from nearby patrolling redcoats and gentle thrum of the dark Caribbean night sky. A few other pirates and whores are scattered down the streets more interested in one another than anyone else, but you can't see Adéwalé anywhere.

Strange. He was just in front of you. You inch forwards down the dimly lit pathway, glancing up and down the street.

Suddenly a strong, thick arm circles your waist from behind, almost lifting you completely off your feet. A warm hand clamps across your mouth to muffle the resulting scream of surprise as you are dragged backwards to an alley between buildings. Your struggles are minimal, given the surprise of the attack and you are unfortunately easily overpowered.

Released from a crushing grip, you round quickly on your attacker to find Adéwalé glaring at you. He seems to fill the small space entirely with his broad body, face thunderous and anger radiating off of him in waves. To escape you would have to go through him and you do not like your chances.

'Why all this interest girl? What do you really want with me?'

The pirate gives you a piercing look and you fight to relax, heart still hammering in shock. You don't miss the small dagger loosely concealed in his hand but are certain that he is ready to strike at any moment. My, he seems remarkably…suspicious.

You shrug playfully, smirking despite your moment of panic. 'An orgasm hopefully.'

Adéwalé lets out a bark of surprised laughter. His anger dissipates along with his suspicion. You suppose a man in his position cannot be too careful.

Putting away his weapon with the barest flinch of muscle in his arm, he eyes you with humour.

'You are very direct, I will give you that.’

'The only way to get what you want, Adéwalé.'

‘You get what you want a lot?’ His voice had lost its intensely angry edge and has taken on a low, rather more intimate, quality that has your heart hammering again, but not in fear this time.

Toying with the loosened laces of his shirt you grin at him. ‘Usually.’

Adéwalé grabs your elbow gently, tugging you closer to his body as he edges further into the shadows and out of view from the street. Lips are on yours before you get a chance to think, arms round your waist, holding you close. His back bumps against a solid brick wall until he can’t move any further and your body melts against the front of him.

He is so incredibly warm under your touch. Caressing his broad chest and shoulders through the thin fabric of pirate robes, you want more; you _need_ more contact with bare skin.

There is power coiled in those muscles, tension singling through Adéwalé’s body as his mouth assaults yours but remains surprisingly, gently. Snaking your tongue into his mouth greedily he sucks on it creating a tingling feeling that somehow travels straight down between your legs. Moaning lowly against him, the responding deep, reverberating, rumble in his chest only adds to your excitement.

Adéwalé slides a knee between your legs, wiggling them open and pushing you upwards slightly so that you are forced to balance on him. It gives you a wonderful opportunity to shamelessly grind your sex against his thigh, working your body into a pantingly aroused state.

The slight friction is nice, your excitment cresting, but it’s nowhere near enough, or what you were really looking for so you tug gently at his clothing, trying to wriggle your hands against his bare skin.

The pirate lets you rub your body against him, large palms skimming over your curves, pausing briefly to caress a tender spot until you mewl into his mouth. His fingers slip under your top, brushing the bare skin at your sides and you squirm in ticklishness, feeling Adéwalé grin against your mouth. Such a simple caress is sending little sparks of pleasure cascading down your body and you groan at the thought of those fingers rubbing more intimate areas.

You pull away from that talented mouth, breathing hard and eyes heavy with lust.  Watching him smirk through hazy vision, you realise you have made a very good choice in approaching him in the tavern.

Hands against your waist, the pirate flips your positions easily, pushing you flat against the wall and insinuating himself in your arms. He presses the muscled hardness of his body tight against you, you can’t possibly move and it is wonderful.

After a brief, tantalising kiss, Adéwalé’s lips drop down to your neck, licking and nibbling his way across your skin. Each touch sparking a growing need for something more low in your groin.

 _'Please_!’ You purr desperately, as he sucks on the big pulse point in your neck that would have weakened your knees had he not been practically holding you up.

In response, the pirates hands glide across your sides, your stomach and inch every upwards.

You wiggle against him, silently begging for more, throwing your head back against the wall to gaze at the dark night sky while his lips and teeth and hands do nothing to quell the desperation in your body.

Adéwalé suddenly abandons the upward search for your breasts and heads downwards instead. Fingers glide across your stomach, slipping through layers of clothing easily as though nothing more than minor inconvenience.

Your breath hitches as a warm palm covers the mound of your sex, and, even through your underwear, his touch is electric. Fingers quickly hook on the edge of your panties and pull them aside, allowing him unrestricted access and you whimper in longing for his touch, shivering as cooler air caresses your sensitive skin.

Leaning heavily against the wall and his solid body, your thighs fall open wider as Adéwalé's fingers slide through the already wet folds of your pussy. He groans lowly against your mouth, tongue caressing yours before pulling back.

‘How can you be this wet, you don’t even know me.’ His excited words whisper along your parted lips. Your response is to wiggle your hips closer to those wonderful fingers and whine needily. It earns you a wry chuckle, but you can also feel the thrum of tension in his body and his breathing heavy. The pirates cock is hard and straining against the seam of his trousers. He is one to talk, you think. It’s not only you who is enjoying this.

Adéwalé doesn’t disappoint and a large, rough, thumb brushes your clit delicately, causing you to quiver on shaky legs. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, sweaty hands clinging to his shirt desperately as his fingers delve lower, teasingly circling your opening in a way that has your hips thrusting forwards demanding penetrating. 

He takes an agonisingly slow time thumbing your clit, building your orgasm leisurely with every caress. Your nub is thrumming in pleasure and a warm weight is building deeper in your groin. As his fingers slip inside, your moans increase, lost in his exploring mouth. Writhing in pleasure, Adéwalé is forced to push harder against you, resting his body and pinning you to the wall. Two large fingers pump eagerly in and out of your tight wet pussy as his thumbs continue to stroke your clit maddeningly. Each dip and stroke of those digits delve as expertly as his tongue does in your mouth, leaving you a shaking mess of tension.

You are having a hard time remaining upright; soon the firm press of the pirate’s body is the only thing stopping you sinking to the floor as wave of unadulterated pleasure ripples from your swollen, stimulated clit throughout the rest of your body.

You sigh contentedly as you come down from your orgasm, melting against him and legs feeling like jelly.

Adéwalé pulls back, lips swollen from your kisses and dark eyes hooded. He gives you a grin full of smug pride when you whimper as his thick warm fingers extract themselves from your achingly satisfied body.

When the pirate removes his body from its prone position against yours, you almost slide to the floor. Gasping and shivering in the cool night air, you had become used to his body heat.

'How was that? ‘He hums, all the while licking your wetness from his fingers, eyes on you.

'Wonderful.' You manage to rasp, tongue thick and heavy from hoarse moaning.

Reaching up on tip toes you give him a slow lingering kiss, licking the taste of yourself from his mouth.

Adéwalé’s hands slide down to your hips caressing through the fabric in slow gentle strokes. The sweep of his tongue across yours has you wiggling against his warm body, desire unexpectedly sparking again almost instantly.

'Come with me.' He rumbles voice low enough to make your stomach flutter.

You only nod, brain still wonderfully hazy in the aftermath of your climax. You expected him to take his own pleasure after you had yours, slide his cock from his breeches and push you against the wall taking you hard and fast, but instead he rearranges your clothing and leads you from the dark alley and down to the docks.

The fresh, salty air brandishes your skin as you both reach the sea front. It is quite here, early morning, and most pirates are drunkenly passed out or asleep.

Adéwalé leads you onto a ship, you assume it is the one he mentioned being quartermaster of earlier. The deck is also quiet and dark, you encounter none of his shipmates, and you are quickly ushered into a cabin on the upper deck.

You glance around taking in the surroundings in the dim lamp lights.

'The captain’s cabin, Adéwalé?  Naughty.'  You tease him.

He gives you a heated smile, already locking the door and removing the flimsy fabric of his shirt. You are suddenly face to extremely muscled chest, and all thought or power of speech leaves you.

‘I’m sure Kenway won't mind. I doubt he'll even see the daylight tomorrow given the state he was in, and I don’t think you want to continue this on a small bunk with other pirates watching from their own bed.'

The quartermaster wastes no time in hurrying you backwards towards the bed until you are tumbling down, sprawled on your back across it. The solid weight of his body covers yours causing you to sink further into the soft mattress.

His kisses stimulate as lips seek bare patches of skin to assault. Bucking under him you feel the press of his arousal between your legs, rubbing against your centre, and you clench in anticipation. Your hands explore the vast expanse of dark brown chest and shoulders, fingernails digging in slightly against the bunch and play of toned muscle.

'More.' You whisper needily in between reverent kisses and Adéwalé is happy to oblige you, hands skimming under your clothing to caress, seeking upwards towards your breasts until a large palm enclosed around a fleshy orb and fondles expertly.

The noises from you are practically incoherent as the pirate thumbs your nipple, torturing the sensitive bud until it is peaked and hard.

Clothing is peeled slowly off, the pirate taking his time between layers to rub and stroke your revealed skin. When you are finally naked, his eyes covet every inch of exposed flesh.

Licking his lips slowly, Adéwalé makes a quick move to loosen his own breeches, but his task is made more difficult by the impressively straining cock tightening the fabric. Eventually pulling himself free, you bite your lip at the enticing sight of the man nude and hard, and practically quivering in desire for you. The tip of his cock glistens thickly with a small pearl of cum, and remembering the taste of yourself from earlier, you have an overwhelming desire to taste him too.

Reaching out towards him, the pirate stills and doesn't protest as you run fingertips delicately up the length if his shaft. You stroke the pad of your thumb across the wider head, rubbing back and forth across the silky wetness. His eyes slip closed, lips parted, and you hear the smallest breathy groan as his hips jerk under your touch. Bringing your fingers to your lips, Adéwalé watches you, face a mask of desire, as you suck your thumb into your mouth, rolling the taste of him across your tongue. It's not entirely pleasant, thick and salty and musky and catching at the back of your throat but you can deal with it.

Adéwalé growls lowly and you swallow hard, heart fluttering and stomach somersaulting. You really need sex, you need his body pushing into you, filling you and satisfying the ache but after intense orgasm he gave you, you feel he deserves a bit of a treat.

Getting to your knees, you gently push him down to lie on the bed, settling between his spread thighs and watching with eagerness the erection standing proud in front of you. Large hands curls across the back of your head and he eases your face down towards him.

Closing your eyes, and taking a deep breath, you open your mouth as wide as comfortable and slip the length of his velvety soft cock into your mouth. You fight a surprised squeak as hips buck unexpectedly, forcing him deeper than you intend, but the pirate pulls back after that initial wonderful first touch to allow you to move as much as you want.

After a few moments Adéwalé growls, tugging your hair until you release his shaft from your mouth. His cock glistens wetly with your saliva and the pirates gaze is lust filled. He motions you to turn around.

'Bring that wet little quim up here so I can pleasure you too.'

You do as requested, wondering what treat that mouth has in store. If it is anything like his kisses then it will be amazing.

Adéwalé pulls your hips over his face as you try to delicately kneel either side of his head. With his cock in your hand you swipe your tongue across the head in a slow delicate sweep. His response is to probe between your folds with his tongue, brushing your clit lightly. Shivering above him, you whimper as his hands caress your backside, you were supposed to be pleasuring him, not the other way around.

This won’t do, you want him panting and groaning for you but the pirate sets to work, sucking and lapping at you, burying his face in your wetness with low pleasurable noises. You almost lose your own coordination at his actions, body tightening in pleasure; you attempt to focus on the task at hand, slipping his cock back between your lips. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck lightly while gently squeezing the base of his shaft rhythmically with your hand. There is no way you can be giving him as much pleasure as you are getting, you think, as his tongue caresses your clit and leaves your thighs shaking.

Lavishing attention on him with your tongue, you suck and moan around him, trying to increase his pleasure, and a little sense of pride in the back of your mind wanting to make him come first.

Hips buck increasingly under you, and every so often a hot breath tickles along your pussy when he gasps after a particularly stimulating lick at the sensitive head of his cock.

You can feel another wonderfully intense orgasm approaching with every lap of his tongue, and sliding his fingers into your soaked pussy just about finishes you off. You pant heavily around the thick cock filling your mouth, whimpering as you lose the race and cum while he sucks on your sensitive clit.

Adéwalé is still rock solid, no matter how hard you tried to take him to completion like he did with you.

Easing himself from your lips, the pirate helps roll your tired body off of him. Glancing down the length of your naked body to his, you thought you might just cum again at the sight of your wetness coating his chin. As Adéwale moves and kneels on the bed he grins at you.

'Hands and knees, I want you hard and fast.’

Still panting from your orgasm, that is totally fine with you. Your body is pleasurable loose and relaxed after such an amazing release, but there is a small niggling emptiness deep in your abdomen that needs…something, and that something is wet, and glistening, and large enough for you to be very glad that you are already soaking wet.

Licking your lips, you take a deep, steadying, breath to try to quell your excitement as you watch the pirate leisurely stroke his cock, intense eyes fixed on you.

Rolling over onto your stomach you try and kneel on the cabin bed on shaky legs. Impatient, Adéwalé grabs your hips roughly, pulling you closer to his warm, solid body. His hands feel incredibly firm against your skin as he kneads gently, pulling you back towards him with a low groan. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance against and you squirm in his grasp.

Adéwalé pushes forwards, slowly, evenly, until he is sheath inside of you and his hips are pressed tightly against your backside. A low sigh of satisfaction escapes your mouth as you feel gloriously, wonderfully, full.

The pirate gives you a few moments to adjust to the feel of him, letting your natural need take control. When you wriggle against him, clenching your inner muscles and moving your hips, he takes it as his cue to move, fingers now digging almost painfully into your flesh.

He moves, rough and fast, just as he said he wanted, drawing himself out and plunging deeply back in until all that fills the cabin are the sound of your bodies slapping together.

Small moans are forced from your throat with every stroke; you couldn't stop your reaction to him if you tried. Fingers grip the bedding tightly underneath you as you look for something to anchor you from the building sensation between your legs.

Adéwalé is incredibly strong, lean hips pushing relentlessly with a thudding brutality. You almost can't keep upright on your hands and knees, body forced forwards with every thrust. The pirate soon loses his tempo, thrusting erratically, hips digging into your backside and balls slapping against your clit. He wants you to scream for him, you can tell by his harsh movements and the deep responding feral growl from his chest.

‘You want it harder?' His voice sounds distant in your ears, the rush of blood almost drowning him out.

'God yes!' Is all you manage to hiss out between clenched teeth.

The pressure deep in your groin is building to a crescent; you can feel it, like a cup filled to the brim waiting for that last drop to push it over the edge. You would stroke your clit, but you can't move, too focused on trying to keep upright on your hands and knees, fingers tangled in sweat drenched sheets and the feeling of Adéwalé’s hands pressing into your hips.

He moves, just the slightest shift in position, knees parting your thighs wider, and angling forwards just a tad and that completely changes the feel of him inside of you. The thick shaft brushes back and forth across a little pleasurable spot and it's enough to send you over the edge to a more intense body-raking orgasm. Your arms buckle under you, placing you face down on the bed and you quiver around the man behind you. Grunting, and with a few final impossibly deep thrusts, Adéwalé cums, hips stilling as he spills his seed into your aching and quivering body.

You gasp, panting on the bed allowing your hips to fall back down to lie flat. Adéwalé’s softening cock slips from you with a groan and he collapses beside you, body sheen with sweat and breathing heavy, the large muscles in his arms and legs shaking with the force of his exertion. You just about manage to roll onto your back, boneless and finding it difficult to move, breathing as heavy as the man beside you. 

You suddenly feel incredibly sleepy, and tired, but in a very pleasurable way.

Adéwalé’s deep voice sardonic ally draws beside you. 'Orgasm meet your expectation?'

You giggle, clit still tingling in pleasure and warm seed leaking from your achy, over stimulated body.

'Much better than I expected actually.'

You can feel the man grin beside you. Stretching out that impressive body, he pulls you into a warm embrace.

'Give me a moment to rest and I'm sure I can provide more examples.'

‘Any more of that and I might not be able to walk.'

'We are on a ship.’ He teases. ‘You don't need to walk, we can sail everywhere.'

You stretch out your worn, post-orgasm body along the side of his as the pirate wraps you in strong arms.

'Should we not move?' You enquire, sleepily, not really inclined to.

Adéwalé tucks you under his chin, nuzzling the top of your head. ‘Captain is unlikely to be here tomorrow. Let's get comfy.'


End file.
